The Life and Time of Ginevra Molly Potter Malfoy
by lielabell
Summary: You have heard the rumors and read the lies; you have learned my life in your history class. Now it is my turn to set the record straight. Please pardon this old woman as she tells the story of her life and the lives of her lovers the way was.
1. Author's Note

**Author's Note  
**  
Why did I leave him? Because of the toothpaste. It sounds crazy, but it is true. I know you have heard the rumors and read the lies, but it really was the toothpaste. I could put up with the fame and the other women (yes there was more than the one I supposedly forced him into the arms of) but the sight of the squeezed out tube he didn't even bother to charm back to full was more than I could bear.  
  
I remember the last morning I spent as his wife quite clearly. I was seven months pregnant with my stomach bulging out in front of me and my feet too puffy to walk comfortably. He rushed past me as I stumbled towards the bathroom, his robes askew and a piece of toast in his right hand. He pressed a rough kiss to my forehead, patted my belly, and was out of the house before I even had time to mutter the well worn 'I love you' I always sent with him.  
  
I waddled my way to the master bath and stared at the mess he never failed to leave behind him. The mirror was fogged up and complaining loudly, the tub was still filled with scummy water and the sink had hair in it. I sighed, reached for the now infamous tube of toothpaste and all but screamed when it refused to squirt anything on to my toothbrush.  
  
And I knew.  
  
I knew I wanted out. I knew I was not going to raise my child in the sort of half life that I had spent the last four years in. I knew I could no longer stand in the shadows and pretend that it was the spotlight. I knew that there was something more for me out there then a spot on the society page and the trumped up image of the perfect trophy wife. Most of all I knew he would let me go without a fuss.  
  
When he came home that night I handed him the divorce papers and he signed them with a smile.  
  
Hard to believe, after all the commotion the papers made, but it really was that simple. He was in love with someone else and I was finally over the school girl crush that had griped me since I was eleven. We parted as friends and have remained so ever since. He was at my second wedding and was the first to congratulate me when news of that I was expecting again finally broke.  
  
Not what you heard, right? Let me guess: I broke his poor heroic heart. You might even be one of the ones who thinks that I am a gold digging harpy and that I crave attention so much that I left the man of every woman's dreams for his arch-enemy. If you are, then what I say really doesn't matter that much anyway. If not then please do read on.  
  
You see I promised myself years ago that one day I would set the record straight. The things that people have long taken as true never set well with me. I know that every society must have their myths, but when those myths portray me and the man I love as the worst sort of vile humans out there then I could care less about tearing them down.  
  
He would have supported me in my efforts to tell the truth. He never could stomach the rubbish that was spread about him and his life. He use to confide in me that one day he would run mad down the streets singing the lyrics of every song ever written about him just to see what the papers would say. I told him then, and I still believe it now, that somehow his insanity would be used to once again prove that he was our savior.  
  
If he was alive today he would wish me well while giving me that special little smile of his. And I would smile back. Never mind that our ill fated marriage ended over a century ago or that I have been happily married to someone else for most of that time and forgetting the five or six women he ran through in his endless search to find happiness. In both of our hearts is a place that only the other has touched and the lifetime between then and now means nothing when compared to that.  
  
When the medi-wizards told me that my husband only had another two years I threw myself into this project with a fury I did not know I still had. I have always known that I would not last more than a year after he goes and so I made sure that all was in order before hand.  
  
While reading this please remember that this will not be published until I am gone and with my death the world loses the last of us who grew up with him and experienced the events I relate as they happened.  
  
The words that you read are true. I have not, nor will I, flatter myself or put myself in the best possible light. The words and event in this memoir are not in my own voice alone. My plans for this book were long in the making and as such I have had interviews with all who matter to the story I aim to tell. While many of you may think you knew what happened and why, I am sure that what I have written will show you things you never imagined could have taken place.  
  
My name is Ginevra Molly Potter Malfoy and this is my story.

* * *

**Table of Contents:  
**  
**Early Memories  
**

Friends; Family; Children; Husbands  
  
**Childhood  
**  
**Hogwarts**

First Year; Second Year; Third Year; FourthYear; Fifth Year; Sixth Year; Seventh Year  
  
**My First Marriage**

The Dating Game; How It Started; How It Ended; Our Son  
  
**My Second Marriage  
**

The Dating Game; Our First Fifty Years; Our Second Fifty Years; Our Children  
  
**Being a Mother**

Sirius James Potter; Alexander Malcolm Malfoy; Iain Elias Malfoy; Cadence Necia Malfoy;  
  
**Being a Grandmother**

Jovin Harry Potter; Lillian Maria Potter; Bella Ginevra Potter; Brant James Potter; Annalynn Vera Malfoy; Garrett Kael Malfoy; Draco Eros Malfoy; Ivan Owen Malfoy; Verrina Mika Zabini; Lucio Andreas Zabini; Damien Kiril Zabini;  
  
**Facing Death Once More**

* * *

AN: This is going to be posted one capter at a time in the order in which they appear on the table of contents. I have many projects going at the moment so this will be updated as often as possible but that will almost certainly be slower than you like. Each chapter will be long and (hopefully) well worth the wait. This is Ginny's story and will focus on her life. 'Ships and side stories will be in it but only as they effected her. This is an **old woman! **Please remember that.


	2. Early Memories: Friends

**Early Memories:**  
  
Friends:  
  
What is life without friends? I have been blessed with the same group of close confidents from my younger years to the present day and am proud to say that I have shaped their lives as much as they have shaped mine. I would not be the witch that I am today without their love and support and so I have included my first memory of each of them in this first chapter of my life. In return I have asked each of them to share their first memory of myself as well.  
  
_Neville:_

My darling Neville Longbottom is the first on my list. He has been involved in many firsts in my life and so it seemed fitting that he would be the friend with whom I start my story.  
  
I met Neville on the train to Hogwarts my first year there. He was a fat funny sort of boy with big eyes and a forgetful air about him. He seemed so befuddled that I instantly felt a bond with him. We sat together for a good twenty minuets while he tried to remember something dreadfully important that his Grandmother had told him only two hours or so before and had a pretty decent conversation in spite of his memory loss. I had heard of him before we met; he and my brother Ron had been involved in some adventures the previous year and a number of letters addressed to me had made mention of a clumsy brave boy who always seemed to be in the way. I don't remember what he was wearing, but I recall that he lost his jumper and that we parted when he went searching the rest of the train for it.  
  
Only a few hours later I was sorted into his house and he smiled at me as I sat down next to Ron. I was unusually shy and his sunny greeting made me feel right at home. I vowed then and there that I would get to know him better and that someday he would be counted among my best friends. Here we are a good hundred eighteen years later and he certainly is.  
  
N: The first time I met you? Humm, let me think. I know I put that memory somewhere. Ah! Here it is. Yes, I remember. You were in tattered robes and scuffed shoes. I was sitting by myself in the last compartment on the train to Hogwarts and you poked your head in and asked if you could join me. I knew you were a Weasley at once, how could I not with all that red hair, so I told you that you were welcome to.  
  
If I recall correctly I was trying to fix something my Gran had told me in my somewhat faulty short term memory. Thank god they finally found a cure for memory spells and I don't have that problem any more. I have always found it vastly assuming that my brain works better at a hundred thirty then it did at twelve. But never mind that. Just the ramblings of an old man, right Ginny me girl?  
  
Where was I? Oh yes, sitting with you in the train. You chatted with me about being sorted into houses. I told you not to worry because if someone as absentminded as I was made it into good ol' Gryffindor then you should have no problem at all. I am not all that sure that I was as comforting as I thought I was being, but you smiled and told me thank you anyway. Then Hermione came by to tell us to change into our robes and I realized that I had lost my jumper after that I dashed off to locate it. I think I found it in the hands of your husband and his goons. Not to be a bad friend or anything Gin, but he really was a rotter as a child.  
  
And there you have it. My first memory of the charming girl I love so much.  
  
_Lavender:_  
  
Lavender Warrington nee Brown and I became friends when I was five years old. We were never very close though. It was not until I was about twenty six and falling fast for a certain blond bully that any sort of real bond formed between us. She was engaged to one of Draco's friends and the two of them welcomed me with open arms. I owe her the most for showing me the ropes of the cutthroat world that our husbands lived in.  
  
Back when she was simply Lavender Brown, with her long pony tail and bright big eyes, she lived in the closest wizard settlement to mine. Her parents and my own thought it would do us good to be introduced as suitable playmates for young witches were hard to come by.  
  
Our first play date was in late autumn of my fifth year of life. She was six, a whole year older, and lorded it over me something awful. Her pretty pink robes were new and fashionable and her hair was glossy and smooth. I was put off by her nice clothes and snobby attitude and she did not at all like my too big hand me downs and my sneering dirty face. We fought and cried and did all the nasty things little girls do to one another. By the end of the day we were fast friends because of the simple fact that there was no one else to play with.  
  
We remained on friendly terms until she left to Hogwarts. Once there she lost all interest in me and I in her. It wasn't till many years later that we rekindled our acquaintance and realized that we really were suited for one another after all.  
  
L: Oh Ginny-bean, why would you ask me such a foolish question? You know that I resented you from the first time we met until I was twenty seven and finally confident enough not to envy you? Why on earth would you want to dreg up nasty memories? Oh alright, if I must then I will tell you.  
  
The first time I saw you was in my front hall. Your Mother brought you by along with three of your brothers and I spied on you from the top step. Fred and George tugged at your braids before giving you a packet of what later turned out to be Bloating Bubble Gum. Then Ron gave you a big hug and a kiss before crying out that he would miss you as your Mother tried to drag him away. I decided then that I hated you.  
  
My brother was too old for playing with me and never gave me gifts or kisses. I thought that it was unfair that yours would do so when you didn't even have decent robes. I remember sticking my tongue out at you while you stood there looking frightened and out of place and telling my Mother that I didn't want to play with you at all. It was very badly done of me, since you were sweet and kind, but that was the sort of spoiled child I was.  
  
Are you happy now sweets? What sort of friend are you? Getting me to confess to the world that I treated you poorly based on your brothers and your robes.  
  
_Millicent:  
_  
Millie Zabini, oh I know my first memory of her was a bad one. She was in Slytherin and I was in Gryffindor, what more is there to say? From this side of it the whole house loyalty issue seems very childish and immature, but at the time it was much more important than anything else. I hated those slimly green gits and they hated us golden goodie goodies just as much. So it is with little surprise that I first met Millie in a conflict.  
  
I was trying my hardest to stall that Umbridge woman while Harry was doing something seemingly vital and ended up in face to face combat with her evil henchmen. Somewhere between the opening curses and my famous Bat Boogie Hex I jinxed one Millicent Bulstrode. I cannot say that her actions are clear in my memories, only that a look of horror that came over her face when she realized that her eyebrows were growing at an alarming rate and her teeth weren't that far behind them.  
  
Millie became dear to me many years after that in a similar fashion as Lavender. She and Blaise were Draco's constant companions and both did much more than called for when I became his wife. Without the help of Millie I would never have mastered the fine art of conversation or the deadly world of etiquette.  
  
M: Why, Ginevra, of all the impertinent things out there that you could have asked, did you have to settle on that one? How many years has it been since I took you under my wing and you still don't know the slightest thing about manners. Don't look at me that way, it's not my fault if you didn't take my lessons to heart.  
  
Now I know that the first time you noticed me was when you jinxed me, but I did not even realize that you had done it until you confessed to me years later. No, my first memory of you was quite different. It was shortly following that incident when I remember seeing you. I had wandered into the library after Blaise and passed closer to your table than I normally did. It was by chance that your brother Ron was crowing about the wonderful job you did hexing Draco while you blushed and tried to quiet him.  
  
I thought to myself that you must be a cut above your brothers if you had enough sense not to want your part in the attack made public and told myself to keep my eye out for you. I didn't want to admit it at the time, but that hex of yours was pretty impressive and I was sure that you would be a major player in the future. I am very proud to say that I was not wrong at all.  
  
_Pansy:  
_  
Pansy Parkinson, or should I say Pansy Longbottom, is the worst first meeting of any of my friends. It was my very first day at Hogwarts and I wanted so badly for it to go well. I had just finished breakfast and was trying to make my way to my first class when a group of older girls stopped me, dragged me into a deserted bathroom and introduced me to the resident ghost.  
  
I was shoved into a narrow stall and locked in by a curse that took Professor McGonagall a good five minuets to break. While trapped in the toilet I became well acquainted with Moaning Myrtle and was completely soaked in the process. I remember vowing right then and there to wreak as much havoc as possible on the blonde pug nosed girl who laughed with her minions as I begged for mercy.  
  
Needless to say, we did not get on very well after that. In fact I think I did all in my power to make her life hell. I even went so far as to convince my darling Neville that Pansy was using him in some sort of elaborate plan for world domination I had come up with in my head. I am not sure when she went from being my bitter enemy to becoming what I would consider my closest ally, but I think it may have happened when she forgave me for talking Neville into leaving her and for being the sole cause of their five year separation.  
  
The Hat knew what he was doing when he put Pansy into Slytherin. She is clever and resourceful, always knowing what to do in any situation. In the event of an emergency Pansy is the one to whom I turn. The cunning and skill that first made me hate her are the very things that I have come to depend the most on. My ties to her are both deep and strong, and my loyalty to her is above all others.  
  
P: The first time I remember you? Lord, what sort of question is that? I know I must have seen you many times before the one that sticks out in my mind, you were quite the thorn in my side during Hogwarts, but the first time I can actually recall your being there was in my seventh year.  
  
You walked into the Great Hall with Potter's arm wrapped around your waist and a look on your face that made me envy you more than anything. Your hair was a mess, all tousled and driven wild from the wind; your eyes seemed to glow with inner light. You had this vacant, dreamy sort of air about you, as if you were walking in a daze, and this breathtaking smile that dominated your face.  
  
I vaguely remember hearing Draco and Blaise cackle about your bovine expression and some other not pleasant attributes, but all I could focus on was the happiness that seemed to be radiating from you. I stuck my arm through Draco's and dragged him over to where you and Potter stood. We heckled you and called the two of you all sorts of nasty names but neither of you replied. Instead you stared into each other's eyes and sighed with contentment.  
  
Seeing you and Potter that way changed my life. I decided that one day I too would have a man look at me the way he was looking at you. I promised myself that I would find love and happiness and that nothing would stand in my way of keeping it once I found it. I owe my life with Neville to you Ginny. If not for the insane way you and Potter melded into each other I never could have become discontent with my life.  
  
_Blaise:  
_  
Blaise Zabini is the sexiest man I have ever met. Seeing as how I was married to both the famous Harry Potter (voted Most Attractive Male by Witch Weekly seven years in a row) and divine Draco Malfoy (voted Most Eligible Bachelor every year from age seventeen to twenty seven, which is how old he was when I married him) that is certainly saying something.  
  
It is not really his looks that make him so or even that delectable smell only he gives off. Instead it is his impeccable manners and the air of homey comfort that surrounds him. There is nothing in the world like a devastatingly hansom man who makes you feel like a queen, and that's what Blaise is in spades.  
  
The first time I laid eyes on him was when Ron came home from Hogwarts his first year. I was standing with my Mother and Father eagerly awaiting a chance to see Ron and Harry, of whom Ron had been singing praises, when this tall boy with black hair and these ice blue eyes walked past me. I felt my jaw drop and I spun around to watch him. He was chatting animatedly with a dowdy plump girl as he made his way to his parents.  
  
I was quite convinced that he was the closest to perfection that any man had ever been and wanted nothing more than to pull him into a dark corner and do the things that Fred and George bragged about to him. It was because of Blaise that I missed Ron and Harry's exist from train all together.  
  
B: So this is why you asked me over, to pump me for information about how pretty a child you were. Shame on you and your vain ways, Ms. Ginevra. My first memory of you would have to be in my fourth year. You were so in love with Potter that you trailed along after him constantly and cheered loudly for him in each of the events at the Tri-Wizard Tournament.  
  
I was sitting with Draco, Pansy and Millie during the first challenge about four rows behind you. I would not have noticed you if Draco had not pointed you out in the crowd. He made a snide comment about for badly your hair clashed with the bright red 'I Support Harry!' banner that you and Colin were waving about. You had this look of complete adoration on your face and your eyes were glued to Potter's every move.  
  
I remember thinking that I would give anything to have your eyes look at me that way. Don't blush dear. Surely you know how appealing the male portion of the student body found you to be? Now you would never have been called a classic beauty, but there was something horribly alluring about your big brown eyes and sun streaked auburn hair.  
  
I know that Draco certainly felt it. The man could not be in the same room as you without pointing you out to me. I never really noticed it before that day, but afterwards I paid mind to how many times Draco felt compelled to take heed of you and how often your name entered into his conversation. But I digress.  
  
Is there anything else about that day that I remember? Let me think. Ah! That was the first time that I realized how much Millie meant to me. What? Not what you were hoping for? Greedy witch. If you do not wish to listen to me ramble about my wife then I guess that is all I have for you.  
  
_Hermione:_  
  
Hermione. It was hard to decide to put her here or with the family, but seeing as how I only included my nuclear family in that section she ended up with my friends, where I am sure she belongs. My first meeting with Hermione was in the summer before my first year. She met up with Ron, Harry and the rest of my family to do a little shopping before the start of the term.  
  
My first impression of her was not very favorable. By then I was madly in love with Harry and the sight of his arm slung carelessly about her shoulders made me see red. On top of that, she was still in her know-it- all phase at that point. She was so condescending and patronizing that I took an instant dislike to her. I am sorry to say, but that was the reaction most people had.  
  
Sadly, things did not improve between us for a long ways afterwards. It was not until she had left Hogwarts and realized that she wasn't the be all and end all of the world that she became bearable. Hermione and I became fast friends the summer after I graduated and have remained so ever since. She was the first person I told about leaving Harry and the one I begged advice from when I decided to seduce Draco.  
  
H: Little Ginny. That is the way I remember you. You were always 'little Ginny' to your brother and therefore were so to me. I was astonished to learn that you were only a year younger than us and were a good two inches taller than I was when I saw you in person. I had pictured you as about five years old with pigtails and dirt on your chin so the reality of you threw me slightly.  
  
I fear I was rather rude to you because of it. I know I talked down something awful to you and treated you like you were made of spun glass, and I have long been aware of how bitterly you resented me for that. All I can say in my defense is that the entirety of your family treated you in a similar and I just followed their lead.  
  
I remember the expression on your face when Harry handed you his books, the absolute joy that seemed to pour out of you, and the way that I instantly feared you. At that stage in my life I was indulging in a small amount of hero worship myself and the manner in which he looked at you set my teeth on edge. As much as Harry will deny it, he ate up every drop of longing you sent his way and went searching about for more.  
  
I was jealous of your companionship with your brothers and the secret smile Harry has ever only given you, so I treated you like you had the brain of a gnat. In retrospect I can clearly see why you responded so hostilely to me, but at the time I thought you were nothing but a spoiled brat. Thank the Lord that we are given the chance to change our opinions as our lives progress.  
  
_Colin:  
_  
Seeing Colin was like finding a missing part of myself. He is so like me in far too many ways and had this habit of finishing my sentences from the first time we set eyes on each other. We came into this world during the same hour on the same day in the same year and have always joked that we were twins born of different mothers.  
  
I feel complete when I am with him in ways that I never have with any other person I know. Being friends with him was not at all an option. I maintain that if Colin were not homosexual I never would have looked elsewhere. To which he never fails to reply that so long as Harry and Draco were out there I never would have given him a second glance.  
  
The first time I saw Colin was on the platform waiting for the train my first year. He was staring at Harry with the sort of awe I had only seen on my own face before and I just knew I had to talk to him. After we were all on the train I set about locating him. I found him stalking Harry and introduced myself as the President of the Harry Potter fan club. He laughed with me then demanded to be made Vice President. We shook hands on it and the rest is history.  
  
C: Ginger, my sweet soul mate, why oh why did you drag me out of my bed? You cannot be serious about writing that book, can you? Who cares what the world thinks of you? I don't get two bronze Knuts about what the rest of society says about me and I should think that at your age you would feel the same way.  
  
Oh for heavens sake, did you have to bring that bit of ancient history up!  
  
The first time I remember seeing you was when you entered platform 9¾ with the most beautiful man I have seen before or since. I whipped out my camera and snapped off six pictures before my Mother took it away from me. I thought you were a funny stick of a girl with wide eyes and hair the color of fire.  
  
When you approached me later to stake your claim to Harry I thought you had a temper with the kick of a gingersnap and christened you as such. I remember the way you finished my sentence and burst out laughing. The skin around your eyes crinkled slightly and the sound of your levity was like a bell tinkling. I knew you and I were meant for great things together that instant.  
  
There. Now may I please go back to my bed? You know as well as I do what both medi-wizard and doctor have said about my fragile state of health and yet you insist on forcing me to be part of your project. Damn inconsiderate of you Ginger.  
  
_Thoughts:_  
  
From reading this you might get the impression that I dislike just about everyone I meet. That is not the case. I assure you that I made instant friends with many a nice witch and wizard in my day, but most of those relationships have not stood the test of time. I am living proof of how much people change. I do not know if I am still the girl my friends described, but I hope that she remains in some part of me yet.


	3. Early Memories: Family

Family:

My family has always been the backbone of my life. I treasure them above all others and have almost always put their wants and needs before my own. This in no way means that we lived some sort of idyllic life with few fights and fewer worries. Quite the opposite is true. I have a fiery temper and a short fuse which means that most of my childhood was spent yelling at one brother or the other. Still the bonds between me and my family are some of the strongest in my life.

_Mother:_

My Mother and I never got on well. I was the daughter she always wanted, a little girl to dress up and play with, but I would have none of it. From the very start I was my own person and that person was not interested in frilly robes or pretty dresses. I never wanted to play dolly and was much more at home on a broom then I ever was in the kitchen.

I am not saying that she did not love and treasure me, because she did. I am only saying that the two of us were forever at odds with each other. In spite of that, I have always felt a close bond with my Mother. No matter how many fights or how often tears were shed, she was always there for me when I needed her.

My first memory of my Mother is, ironically, of her not being there. I was young, three or four, and had wandered away from the rest of the family on a trip to the beach. I remember that I was so lost and afraid; my whole body was trembling, when I was found by a muggle boy.

He smiled at me and asked me my name but I was too upset to answer. Instead, I burst out crying and wailed that I wanted my Mummy. He was frightened by me and ran away. I sank to the sandy ground and hugged myself while the tears continued to streak down my face. I don't know how long I sat there like that but the sun had started to dip below the sea when the little boy came back dragging his parents behind him.

The woman had long black hair and an ample bosom which I buried my face in while she and her husband searched for my family. The woman asked me what my Mother looked like and I told her. Mummy had short red hair that stuck out at all angles, her robes were patched and darned and her skin smelled like lemon polish. She was comfortable to cuddle with and always kept Every Flavor Beans in her apron pocket. I know that I said this only because the woman found it funny and told my parents when they finally found them. My parents in turn have told the rest of us so many times that it has become some what of a family joke.

When I was reunited with my family I clung to my Mother as though letting go of her leg would be the death of me. I remember that she was wearing a bagging yellow and green striped bathing suit and her hair was stuffed up under a swim cap. She had on a large floppy hat, a pair of neon green slippers, and a purple beach towel wrapped around her waist. Whenever I am frighten or scared I picture my Mother as she was that day and suddenly things are not so bad.

M: My first memory of you? That would have to be the first time I felt you move. I was four months along and had just found out that you were the little girl I so badly wanted. I was in a store buying outfits for you when suddenly I felt something brushing against my skin. At first I thought that a piece of fabric had done it but then it came again and I realized that the sensation was coming from inside of my stomach.

I can still remember how your movement felt. It was like butterflies tickling on the inside and a like a ball on the outside. I put my hand over where you were and pressed down slightly. You responded by pushing against my hand and laughter bubbled out of me. The other women in the shop looked at me as if I was insane and all I could do was smile widely at them.

I know that you think I was disappointed by you Ginny, but you couldn't be more wrong. I have loved you from the second you were conceived and nothing you have done has made me anything but proud. I know there were times when I doubted the sense of what you were doing, but looking back on the life you have lived I can honestly say that that the ones that counted were wise ones.

I have one more thing to say. I am old. Who knows how much longer I have left? But, I cannot leave this life without clearing something up. I took your divorce badly. I was cruel to you when you needed understanding and I refused to let you cry on my shoulder when the pressure of the break up finally got to you. I cannot tell you how much I regret that. I know there was a long time when the two of us did not speak and the years we lost eat at me daily.

I wish I had the courage to say this to you sooner sweetie, but better late than never, right? Well here it is: You were right. Harry was all wrong for you. If you had stayed with him your life would have been empty of all the things I wanted for you. And when you married Draco, you were right again. As much as I hate to admit it, that boy was everything you needed. I am so very happy that you found him and spent you life with him. For all he is a Malfoy.

_Father:_

In my memory of my childhood, my Father is a giant. He stood head and shoulders above even my eldest brothers and could swing me high into the air with just one arm. He had curly red hair on his arms that I pulled at and a laugh that bellowed through the house. His eyes were always sparkling and his face always held a smile. In short, he is nothing like the man the rest of the world knows.

I love my Father the way every girl does. A pat on the head produced an unending sort of happiness which bubbled inside of me like water over a hot stove. If he was pleased with something I did, I would blush and bask in his pride. If I did something that made him look at me with sadness in his eyes, I would cry and promise to never be naughty again.

My first memory of my father is from when I was four. He had just come home from work and had a pocket full of sweets for me. He lifted me way up high and kissed my nose before setting me on his shoulders and taking me outside. He had confiscated a talking telephone earlier that day and had brought it home as gift to me.

I remember how he smiled down at me as he went on and on about what a telephone was and how muggles used them. Then he went inside and left me to play. Ron came outside and gave me a nasty look when he realized that the toy was for me. He yanked on one of my braids, called me a baby and made me cry. I ran into the house and sobbed into my Father's shoulder while he patted my back. He carried me outside and forced Ron to apologize. I remember sticking my tongue out at him from behind my Father's back and that he got a spanking when he got caught doing the same.

F: That would have to be right after your Mother gave birth to you. You were wrapped in a pink blanket and had a soft patch of red curls on your head. Your eyes were closed as you slept in your Mother's arms and I felt an amount of love that no one can understand until they have a child of their own.

You were so beautiful Ginny. My little girl was tiny and wrinkled and smelt like new baby. I held you in my arms while I rocked you and knew then that I would never be able to deny you anything. I remember kissing your head and touching your hair so very gently while you rooted into my chest. Thinking about it now makes this old man feel young again.

I never would have thought my little girl would grow up to be such an important woman. I know you have lived a happy and full life but there are things in your history that I wish I could have saved you from. If I could do things differently I wouldn't, but that does not mean that I do not feel my fair share of guilt of the horrible things that being my daughter exposed you to.

_Bill:_

My brother Bill died when I was sixteen years old. I cannot express how much that shaped my final teenage years. I was very close with him and adored everything that he did. He was so tall and dashing with his long hair and earring. I thought he was the coolest man alive and was incredibly proud that he was my older brother.

With Bill, I am not going to share my first memory. Instead, I will relate my last.

It was the middle of the night in August, just two days before the downfall of the self named Lord Voldemort. I had been sleeping in my room when a loud banging woke me. I heard raised voices and the sound of many feet tramping down the narrow hall outside of my door.

When I peeked my head out, I saw members of the Order running about like mad; knocking on doors and rousing those lucky few who managed to sleep through the ruckus. I overheard whispers about a final attack and that all the able bodied fighters were to report to Moody. I pulled back into my room and quickly dressed. I knew that the likelihood of my joining in the fray was slight, but I wanted to be on hand just in case I was needed.

When I returned to the hallway it was jammed with people in the same sort of hasty dress as I. I felt a cold fear flow through me as I watched two of my brothers go down the stairs and become part of the group huddled about Moody. I leaned over the railing quickly counting the number below.

There were thirty men and women milling about with frightened looks on their faces. To the left of them were ten of the children of the freedom fighters. My Mother stood watch over them as Fluer cared for five others gathered to the right. Everyone was speaking at once and the tension was thick enough to cut.

Finally, Harry Apparated and the noisy room hushed. Even the babies seemed to realize the importance of the moment. His face was smeared with soot and his eyes blazed with an inner fire. My whole being was filled with the sight of him, so much so that I missed the man standing in his shadow until someone hissed out 'Malfoy' and the focus of the room shifted to him.

In a blink the next three hours were gone and every person in the room knew exactly what would be expected of them in the battle to come. By this time I was no longer standing peering over the rail, but had moved closer to the wall and was hunched over the top step. I was still sitting there twenty minutes later when all but my brother Bill, his wife and two children were left below.

I am not sure that I was meant to see his farewell to his family but from where I was at the top of the stairwell I witnessed it anyway.

He pulled them to him and held Fleur as she cried onto his shoulder. He kept saying 'I love you' over and over while rubbing her back and holding his children close. Dania was slightly older than one and little Willy was not yet two months old, but as young as they were they still seemed to realize what was happening.

The little family stood there for a long moment clutching to one another before Tonks called out that it was time to go. Then Bill stepped away from their arms and walked without a backward glance to the fight that would kill him.

B: Ginny you are ten years old, what on Earth makes you want to write a memoir? Yes, I understand that someday you will be grown up and that you would like to have all your ducks in a row before that happens, but don't you think you have enough time to plan everything out?

I can see this is important to you so I will concede the point.

My first memory of you would have to be when you said your first word. Look at you blush! I fail to see why you are so embarrassed by it. I am sure that lots of girls say Quidditch before anything else. Or at least they would if they had grown up in our family.

I remember cooing over you when all my teaching finally paid off and proudly marching you up to Mother to show you off. She smiled at you and patted you on the head and then sent me a venom filled look. She told me I was in no way to teach you to play 'that vile game' and that I had better not fill your head up with such nonsense. I thought it was perfectly horrid of her to have said such a thing and I did not let it stop me a bit. It is all thanks to me that you are the wonderful chaser that you are.

_Charlie:_

Charlie was the brother I loved to tease. His temperament was mild and slow to anger which made him the best of all my siblings when it came to putting up with the pranks I pulled. He was gone a lot of my life chasing after the dragons he so loved but he still played a large role in shaping who I am today.

Charlie is like a bright light. Whenever he is around he attracts people to him. His easy smile and fun loving attitude have long been traits that I admire. All his life he knew the sort of man he wanted to be. He had his whole life planned out by the time he was ten and I am sure that if there had never been a Voldemort he would have lived it that way. But you cannot predict the future and his involvement with the Order did more than win him an Order of Merlin, first class.

After the war ended and he recovered from his injuries Charlie settled into a quiet, dragon free existence. He said that he had had enough adventure for one life time, thank you, and he certainly wasn't going to break what was left of his Mother's heart trying to recapture his youth.

My strongest memory of Charlie is of him braiding my hair for my first day of primary school. I was nervous and had slunk into the backyard to fret. Mother had sent him to fetch me so that Ron and I would not be late. When he found me hiding behind the overgrown rose bushes, he calmed my fears by singing silly songs while brushing, then braiding my hair.

He kissed my little cheeks and called me the prettiest witch alive. Then he held my hand as we flooed and walked me to the school. Charlie made me swear to remember everything I did during the day so that I could give him a full accounting when I came home. Then he promised to be waiting at the fireplace for me and gave my head a pat before walking back home.

All day I tried to fix each and every thing that had occurred into my memory. I repeated events over and over in my brain until each stood clear. I memorized the names of all my classmates as well as the slight family background they introduced themselves with. At the last bell I was first in line to floo home and ran out of the fireplace, straight into his arms.

C: Tell you my first memory of you Red? What could my foggy memories of you have to do with anything? Don't glare at me so girl! You were always so quick to temper. Let me think for a moment.

Ah! I don't know if it the first one I have of you sweets but this is the one that comes to mind. It was a rainy day sometime in your third year of life.

You were wet, your ever present pigtails dripping water on the carpet. You were in a dither about something Ron had said and your cheeks had taken on a fiery glow. The two of you were standing toe to toe and you were screaming at the top of your lungs for him to take it back. I remember he laughed at you and called you a silly little girl.

You turned so red that I thought you would pass out and then you launched yourself at him. He was taken completely by surprise and toppled over the instant your body hit his. You somehow managed to pin him down and started torturing him by kissing his face while he begged you to let him up.

The rest of the family came running to see what the fuss was about and Percy quickly pulled you off of him. He started lecturing me about the role of a big brother and I did not pay him an ounce of mind. I was laughing hysterically by then and nothing short of Mother's patented glare could have reigned me in.

Goodness Red, when did you learn to give that look? I swear you would give Mum a run for her money with that one sweetie. You have no one to blame but yourself if you don't like that memory Sis. You're the one who asked me to tell it.

_Percy:_

Percy has always lived his life according to the book. He never stepped a toe out of line or said anything off color. As a result he lived a perfectly boring life with the wife, the kids and the dog. He did well in his job, reached the pay grade he wanted and then spent the remaining years working in the Ministry to maintain it.

His house was always spotless and his children well bred. His wife was the sort of perfect housekeeper I envied while married to Harry and pitied while married to Draco. I have never felt like I am up to snuff around him and so it is no wonder that my first memory of him is one in which he was reporting my misdeeds to our Mother.

I was five years old and always hip deep in trouble when the events I am about to relay took place. I was headstrong and wild, the only daughter in a house full of boys. Always indulged and rarely scolded, I tended to overstep my limits without much thought as to what might happen as a result.

I had been traipsing about the hills surrounding our home when I came across Percy. He was sitting under a tree reading a book on something stuffy and I decided that I was going to have a little fun with him. He was so engrossed in his book that he did not realize I was there until he felt the snake slip down his robe. At first I thought it was vastly amusing to watch him scream as he tried to get it out. He hopped about and squirmed like nothing I had ever seen before.

Then things got scary. Percy's face went bright red and he stopped moving altogether. When he fell to the ground I ran for the house and brought Bill back to help. I later learned that I had somehow managed to find the only snake that my brother was allergic to and dropped it down his robe.

P: That is an easy question to answer Ginevra. My first memory of you is from when you were brought home from the hospital. You were wrapped in a bright pink blanket with a large satin bow stuck on the bit of red fuzz you had for hair. Mother and Father were still in shock over your gender and were hurriedly casting spells to change the color of the bedding and trim of Ron's old baby things.

The whole house was in an uproar. Fred and George had run off, Ron would not stop crying, Bill and Charlie were playing their music way too loud, and yet you stayed serene. I remember Mother saying you were like a princess surveying your kingdom.

I was standing there staring at you for so long that Mother finally dropped you into my arms and told me to make myself useful. I felt the responsibility of my task greatly and carefully arranged you so that you were able to look about the room at the chaos you had caused.

You gurgled and cooed from your place in my lap, your murky brown eyes sparkling with intelligence. You waved a tiny fist in the air and I marveled at how perfectly shaped your little fingers and nails were. I was in awe of your beauty and something of that awe remains in me still.

You have always been a rule breaker, always willing to stand up for what you believe and to hell with the consequences; which is, of course, the complete opposite of my own temperament. I am sure this is the reason that I admire the trait so very much. I know that I often had my nose in the air, sniffing at the situations you got yourself into, but I have supported you in all of your endeavors. And, at my age, I am finally secure enough to reveal that well kept secret.

_Fred and George:_

I have been told that my temperament most closely mirrors that of my twin brothers and I am certain that this is true. As a child I dogged their steps and tried desperately to insert myself into any half brained plan they had cooked up.

I adored my twin brothers. I have long assumed that the reason for this is simply that they made time for me. Even as a small child I remember them finding a way to fit me into whatever prank that they were planning. They never put me off or told me I was too young and because of that they have always had a special place in my heart.

When I was younger I did not know that my brothers existed apart from one another. In my mind they were one and the same. The two of them stood side by side against whatever storm was on their horizon and never seemed to mind that the other was ever present. I envied them in ways I still do not fully understand because of that tie. Only recently have I realized that this jealousy was not completely without warrant.

When I think of them now, my memories are full of wide smiles and eyes sparkling with mischief. I remember them holding me up to peer over the banister well past my bedtime and of them sneaking me onto the train to Hogwarts their first year when the thought of them leaving made me burst into tears. I danced with both of them at the same time at my wedding and did the same at both of theirs. Nothing I can say will ever capture the magic that was Fred and George and so I will not try. Instead I will write the facts and hope that something of them will still remain in the telling.

F: Mother called for you to come up stairs for your bath and you hissed that you weren't taking one, thank you. She huffed back that you had better get your red head up to the tub or else and something snapped. You plopped down on the sofa, crossed your arms and stuck out your lower lip.

G: Then you scowled and said once more that you were not in the mood of a bath. Mum came flying down those stairs as if Fred or I had lit something on fire and stood in front of you with her arms in the exact same position as your own.

F: We were watching from the kitchen table and as soon as she crossed her arms...

G: We started to laugh.

F&G: And Mum glared at us and told us not to put our oars in.

G: When her back was turned you stuck your tongue out at her and mimicked her facial expression perfectly.

F&G: Which only made us laugh harder.

G: By the time she turned back around you were sitting there looking like an angel. You gave her those big puppy eyes of yours and told her you were sorry for making her cross. You had only done so because you were afraid that the water would wash away your freckles.

F: She asked why you would think such a silly thing and you innocently said that Ron had told you that he had put a hex on you that would make you melt away if you went into the bath.

G: Mum gasped and said she had never heard of such a thing, patted you on the head, and then went out looking for Ron with a face like a storm cloud.

F: We had never been so proud. Our little Gin-Gin had escaped from trouble, pulled yet another prank of Ron, and gotten out of a bath...

F&G: And all without getting even the slightest bit of punishment for it.

_Ron:_

Ron has always been my least favorite brother. Maybe it was because we were so close in age that Ron and I were always at eachother's throats or maybe it was because I was treated like a princess while he made do with hand-me-downs. Whatever the reason, he and I never seemed to keep from fighting. I know he is a hero and that old and young alike sing his praises, but I grew up under his thumb and know the bad that comes along with his good.

I love my brother, don't question that, but that does not mean that I always enjoy having him around. Ron is narrow-minded, pigheaded and overprotective. He is quick to make up his mind and seldom changes it, no matter what proof he is offered to the contrary. A good example of this is his treatment of Draco. To the day that he died Ron hated my husband and he never once let an opportunity to tell him pass.

On the day of my wedding he sat outside the door of the church with my broomstick so that when I came to my senses I would be able to run out and jump on it without anything stopping me. For years after I married Draco, Ron refused to speak to me. Family events were strained and nigh impossible to enjoy but still, he kept on. It was not until the birth of my daughter that he relented and made an attempt to heal the breach between us.

My first memory of him is hazy at best. I am not sure how old I was at the time but I could not have been more than three. I was lying in my bed late at night crying over a nightmare I had when he came bursting into my room. He looked about wild eyed and demanded to know who had upset me.

When I told him of my dream he smiled that funny little smile of his and sat down on the bed next to me. He wrapped his thin arm around my shoulders and hugged me tight enough to keep the monsters at bay. Ron told me he would always be there and to never worry because nothing dark would touch me as long as he was by my side.

He tucked me in and then told me funny stories until I feel asleep.

R: You are about four years old in my first memory of you. Knowing our history it is not surprising that it is of the time you stole my favorite stuffed house elf doll and claimed it as yours. I was playing in the front yard with it, ordering it to make me mud pies and tell me stories, when you came running out the front door. You plopped down on the front stairs and started pestering me with question after question.

I remember getting rather annoyed with you and so I told you to stuff it before grabbing my toy and trying to push past you into the house. You jumped up, kicked me in the shins and absconded with my house elf before I had recovered from your attack. I yelled out that you had better give it back right now and you called back that you wouldn't and so there.

I chased you about the house, running from room to room which the intention of tackling you and forcibly making you return my possession. You laughed as we ran, your thick braids flowing out behind you like banners in the breeze. I was gaining on you and had just managed to grab hold of one of your braids when you let out a blood curling scream.

Mum burst into the room in time to see me yank you back by your hair and snatch the toy from your hands. She growled out my name and pulled you into her arms. I remember getting the lecture of a lifetime about treating my little sister with the respect due a young witch while you cried phony tears and stuck your tongue out at me when Mum wasn't looking. In the end I was forced to give you the house elf as part of my punishment.

I remember burning with self righteous indignation and railing about the unfairness of it to Charlie. He just laughed and told me I was getting my comeuppance. Is it any wonder that we did not get on at all as children after that?

_Thoughts:_

My family is my rock and in them I find my peace. I do not know what sort of a woman I would be if they had not been by my side guiding me at every stage of my life. While bickering and fussing might have been daily fare between my brothers and I, the bonds that formed between us as children have remained strong into the twilight of our lives. As the youngest I should not have been surprised to out live them, but still, somehow a surprise it was indeed.

Watching my children's children marry and start families of their own makes me realize yet again how very lucky I was to have grown up in the sort of environment that I did. It is said that the most important choice one can make is to pick their parents and siblings well. I am proud to say that my choice was a wise one indeed.


End file.
